


I'm in Love With Everything You've Ever Been

by lit_chick08



Category: Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Pre-Series, Prompt Fic, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-07
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-16 10:39:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2266632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lit_chick08/pseuds/lit_chick08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jenny and Ian's wedding night</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm in Love With Everything You've Ever Been

He is no virgin, but when he and Jenny enter the bedroom, Ian feels like one. There've been no women since he lost his leg, too embarrassed to let a lass, even a prostitute, see him in such a state; he could scarcely look a lady in the eye now without seeing the pity in it, and he wanted no pity in the bedroom.

There is no pity with Jenny. For a woman who has lost nearly everything and everyone, she does not abide pity, particularly self-pity. When the sadness sets in, when he aches for his leg and the man he was when he was whole, Jenny sets her mouth in that she has and says, "Keep whining like a bairn, and I'll take the other one." Of course, then she kisses him because while Jenny Fraser is many things, she is never cruel to the ones she loves.

Except she isn't Jenny Fraser now. She's Jenny Murray, his wife, and he doesn't ken how he will ever be able to love her as much as she deserves.

Ian watches as she starts unlacing her dress, her head held high, but he can read the nervousness on her face. She is a virgin, swore it to him on her parents' graves as if he would turn her away; even if the stories he'd heard about what the Redcoats did to her was true, Ian could never fault Jenny for that. If he could, he'd kill the bastards who touched her, rip them limb from limb for what they did. And as Jenny hesitates for a moment before dropping her dress, stepping out of it in her shift, Ian realizes she may not be ready for this so soon after what happened.

"We don't have to do this," Ian blurts out even as his balls ache at the sight of her curves through her thin shift.

Jenny looks at him as if he's grown a second head. "What do you mean, we don't have to do this? We aren't married unless it's consummated."

"I'll swear we did it, the consummating."

The confusion on her pretty face grows, something else starting to creep into her expression. "You don't - Do you not want to bed me, Ian? Is that it?"

"No! Of course I do! That's not - Jenny, I swear, I want you more than any man has ever wanted a lass."

"Then why are you saying you don't want to bed me?"

"I just thought - I mean, with what happened with Randall, if you did not want - "

The confusion on her face is replaced so quickly with anger, Ian finds himself taking a step back. "Is that you think, that I don't want you because of what he tried to do to me? You think I don't ken the difference between a man like that and a man like you?"

"No, I just thought - "

"I married you because you're not a man like him and I plan on bedding you because I want to, Ian Murray, but if you keep talking such bloody nonsense, I'll cut your prick clean off and then there'll be a reason you cannot consummate this marriage!"

Ian absorbs the threat for a moment before he begins to laugh. Jenny starts to laugh as well, the tension broken, and she approaches him, her hands rising to cup his face. Ian's hand settle on the curve of her waist, the movement as natural as breathing, and he still cannot believe a lass as fine as Jenny Fraser is his wife.

"You've had ladies in your bed before," Jenny says, voice softer now, "and I worry you'll compare me to them. That's all."

"Never," Ian swears, pulling her closer to him. His treacherous cock twitches beneath his kilt, and he kens Jenny can feel it from the smile starting at the corner of her mouth. 

"Good." Jenny stands on her toes, tilting her chin up in invitation, and Ian accepts it, pressing his lips against hers. She tastes like communion wine, and it makes him think it fitting, that this will be a sacrament of a different but no less important kind.

They work together to undress each other, Jenny blushing when they remove her shift, Ian doing the same as he stands before naked save his leg. She runs a hand down his chest, fingers combing through the thick thatches of dark hair there, his cock standing stiff as her nails scratch the curls above it.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, intrigued by the look on her face.

Jenny shakes her head, hands sliding back up his chest and down again. "I was wondering if it's going to tickle when my tits are against all this hair."

Ian laughs, nervousness replaced by such love, he cannot stand it. He takes her hands, leading her towards the bed, and when he sits down, Jenny reaches to undo the straps on his fake leg. Ian reaches to stop her, not wanting to make love to his wife with his stump laid bare, but Jenny pushes away his hands, meeting his gaze unwaveringly as she does it. When she sets the leg aside, bending her head to press her lips against the remains of his leg, Ian finds himself blinded by tears he cannot blink back fast enough.

"I love all of you, Ian Murray, and you had best not forget it," Jenny whispers as she joins him on the bed.

Ian kisses her, trying to pour everything he feels into the kiss, his fingers tangling in her black hair. He urges her to move, twisting their bodies until he is on his back, trying to bring Jenny atop him. She pauses, obviously surprised.

"What is it?" Ian asks, his breath coming fast.

"We cannot do it like this, can we?"

Ian laughs, cupping her cheek. "Aye, we can do it this way. I ken you'll like it, and if you don't, you tell me and we'll find a way you do."

Jenny nods, letting Ian help her straddle his hips, his cock rubbing insistently at her ass. She inhales sharply through her nose as Ian cups one breast, his other hand slipping between her thighs to explore her by touch. She moans as his thumb finds where she is most sensitive, and Ian feels her wetness growing against his fingers. When he urges her up onto her knees, Jenny understands what is about to happen. She braces her hands against his chest, exhaling shakily at the brush of his cock against her, and as she begins to sink down, they both gasp at the feeling of their joining.

"Did I hurt you?" Ian pants, his hands squeezing her hips to try to keep from thrusting up into her as his body so desperately wants. 

Jenny shakes her head, moving her hips slightly and wrenching another moan from Ian. "Show me what to do."

Ian begins to guide her hips, biting his lip to keep from waking the house at the noises he wants to make. Jenny catches his rhythm easily, far freer with her moans, and it makes him thrust up into her, wanting to keep those sounds constantly in his ear. She begins to move faster, a bit wilder now, and Ian pushes himself up into a sitting position, both of them crying out at how good it feels. Jenny wraps her arms around him, his face pressed tight between her breasts, and his hand finds its way between their bodies, rubbing her above where they are joined. 

"Ian!" Jenny cries as she peaks, clenching tight around him, and Ian's control snaps, a pained groan escaping his lips as he spills inside her. 

They are tangled together, both trying to catch their breaths, when Jenny laughs, a thin, high sound.

"It does," she says, carding her fingers through his hair.

"What?"

"It does tickle," she clarifies, rubbing her breasts against his chest.

Ian starts to laugh as well, drawing her down for a kiss, and he kens this will be the happiest marriage in all of Scotland.


End file.
